


'Tis Complicated

by fictionmeister



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, Incest, M/M, More Relationships to be added, Multi, Nonbinary Lafayette, Nonbinary Peggy, Other, Polyamory, Trans Burr, Trans Eliza, are yall ready for this, happy poly families, i promise ill handle that as delicately as possible, its a big ol group of queerios, its the eliza/angelica btw, kinda?? they arent related, mentions of sex but nothing explicit yet, they were kinda sorta raised together but not blood related, this is gonna get complicated, trans ham
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:23:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionmeister/pseuds/fictionmeister
Summary: College AU where classes get messy and relationships get messier. An exploration into communication, finding oneself, and what to do in a fight. Might get naughty, and will certainly get a little complicated. Nothing our heroes can’t handle, though. //Might change the title at some point//may raise rating later//





	1. Not as it Seems

Thomas Jefferson took immense pleasure in watching his boyfriend sleep. The late afternoon light filtered through the translucent curtains onto James’ dark skin, and his usually composed features relaxed and became a different kind of calm. It wasn’t the guarded indifference that he usually put on display in order to fool his peers into thinking he was more mature than he was, but a soft vulnerability manifesting in a slack jaw and fluttering eyelashes. Thomas was loathe to wake him.

“Hey… we have class,” Thomas whispered half-heartedly. As delicate as he looked while sleeping, James Madison was as unconscious as a stone. Thomas groaned and shook James into the realm of the living. He immediately scrunched his face in displeasure and squinted at Thomas.

“It’s already 5:30?”

“It’s 5:45.”

Madison gasped and jolted awake, sitting up too fast and making himself dizzy. “We’re gonna be late!” Thomas grinned and watched his frazzled flurry of a boyfriend get ready. He was the only one to see this side of James. He was lucky to have him.

Thomas frowned at the thought, suddenly troubled _. I’m lucky to have him, and I should keep it that way._

He couldn’t help thinking about last night...

 

It was the kind of night for going out. As crisp as the night air was, Thomas preferred being inside with the pounding bass and the low lights and too many bodies pressed together. He liked throwing parties, but tonight they decided to hit the local scene for a change. The college town had no shortage of clubs to help lessen the stress of difficult teachers and endless empty word documents. Thomas was nearly finished with his drink, and he stared at James while nursing the ice, eyeing his boyfriend’s full glass. He knew what was coming when the conversation lulled and James made a face while looking into his glass.

“...I can’t finish this,” said James after a long silence. Thomas giggled.

“Every time, sweetheart. You know, you don’t have to drink.” He always felt like there was something more than just the flavour that deterred James from drinking, but he never had the courage to ask. They tended to gloss over unpleasant topics, preferring to discuss movies or homework or travel stories. James took another sip. James made another face. Thomas chuckled and looked over James’ shoulder, only to lay his eyes on the very last face he wanted to see right now; his grin slipped off of his face momentarily.

“Hey, let’s dance, yeah? That’s the fun part,” said Thomas hurriedly. “You don’t have to drink that.” He pulled James out of his seat, charming smile plastered back onto his face.

The dance floor was like that of any club in a college town: crowded, hot, and drunk. Thomas wasted no time diving into the crowd; he just wanted to escape Hamilton, who had just walked in with his boyfriend. In a crowd like this, they’d never bump into each other… right?

There was something about Hamilton’s eyes that fascinated Thomas, and it scared him. They were nothing like James’s eyes. James was like a dying fire, hot embers smouldering comfortably; Hamilton was a crackling blaze, more lively than a well-lit fireplace, bordering on dangerous. His eyes were hungry and sharp, like a bird of prey. Thomas loved James, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued with Hamilton. He never wanted that interest to go any further than admiration from a respectable distance.

On the other hand, he found the man’s views infuriating. They’d never agree with anything in their debate class, and their fiery discussion continued well after class. They became established as rivals, as enemies, and he couldn’t disrupt that dynamic. Not when Hamilton looked at him with that sharp, hungry countenance, and narrowed his eyes in what looked like hatred.

So Thomas would stay in his lane and not fuck with fire, because he sure as hell didn’t feel like nursing those guaranteed burns. He danced with James, hot and heavy; he held his boyfriend’s strong arms to forget about that silly little boy with the ravenous gaze and the dark circles and the small frame… the way he quaked with anger sometimes was almost endearing.

Thomas suddenly let out a small gasp that couldn’t be heard over the music -- there he was! So close he could almost touch him, dancing with John, too preoccupied with John to notice them, but there was Hamilton in all his glory. Without thinking, Thomas pressed a kiss to James’s lips, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Hamilton.

Their eyes met.

There was a moment of strange tension, a split second only perceived by them, until the eye contact was too much for them to bear. The look in Alex’s eyes was meant for John. It was too intimate, Thomas felt like he was intruding somehow… but the thought crossed his head that he wouldn’t mind that look being directed at him.

 

He snapped back to the present when he realized they were standing outside the classroom door.

“Hello? You spaced out for a second there,” said James worriedly.

“Whoops!”

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing,” replied Thomas, just like he did every time something was bothering him.

They entered the classroom and James eyed him worriedly. They didn’t talk much about anything important, but he could tell when Thomas was upset about something. He wished he could ask, but why would he suddenly begin to try and talk about uncomfortable topics like _feelings_? James bit his lip and decided to try and figure it out for himself instead. He tended to be hyper-aware of people’s moods, which is how his relationship with Thomas had been relatively smooth sailing despite their lack of communication; he knew when to leave the guy alone, or offer cuddles, or offer sex.

  
Meanwhile...


	2. That Has to be It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile, across campus...

“Ahh, John… fuck! We’re gonna be late to Washington’s class…” panted Alexander Hamilton. He loved seeing his boyfriend like this, face flushed with lust, pupils blown, working them both up into a lather with the intensity of his love. John Laurens was a passionate man inside and outside of the bedroom, always fiery, always looking for a fight or a kiss, but this was the one side of him that only Alex has ever witnessed; the sheer force of his lust making them both lose sense of time and place.

But Alexander had set an alarm _just_ to make sure, and he was _never_ late to class.

“Please, John…” he half-pleaded half-moaned, struggling to overcome the zealous and heady atmosphere that John had created.

The mad scramble to get ready after finishing was nothing short of hilarious, complete with whining, rushed postcoital kisses, and much stumbling over things. Alexander ran his hands through John’s tousled curls and thought to himself that he hoped this never ended.

 _Then don’t fuck it up_ , came a stern thought.

 

They had gone out last night, where he had the unfortunate luck to encounter the devilishly handsome and ridiculously _infuriating_ Thomas Jefferson. He had no idea how he felt about Jefferson, which was strange because he always knew his own feelings, and if he didn’t, he talked about them with John. This time was different though; he couldn’t exactly tell his boyfriend, “Well, I kinda wanna punch him in the face but I also wouldn’t be opposed to making out with him, is that weird?” John would probably beat the shit out of him. That’s just how they worked.

Sometimes it was exhausting having to share everything, though. They were both too clingy, and while the attention was nice, depending on the sensitivity of the situation it quickly became overbearing, or even annoying. Constantly checking in, even to do little things like having lunch with a mutual friend, got old quick. Still, Alexander loved his boyfriend, and would do anything to stay with him. They needed each other. That’s why he _wasn’t_ thinking about last night.

 

The moment had been strange for him. He didn’t know what possessed him when he saw Jefferson in those dim lights-- they were both with their boyfriends, whom they loved very much -- but he suddenly became completely overtaken with lust. The fact that it was wrong to lust after someone that wasn’t _his_ only heightened the feeling, like tasting forbidden fruit… so he focused that built up tension on John, who, ignorant of the source of Alex’s passion, gladly took it. John didn’t notice Alex look over at Jefferson. Much like James, he was completely unaware of the moment that Alex and Thomas shared that night, and the latter two intended to keep it that way. They just had their own personal ways of dealing with it.

 

As much as Alex hated being late or skipping class, he still dreaded Washington’s 6:00 pm debate class for one reason: Jefferson was in it. Usually this was a source of excitement; after all, they were the best debaters in the class. The clashes they entered had a reputation of breaking up the class into factions, each of which fiercely defended either man’s point of view; in one notable instance, these rivalries were intense enough to cause a break-up. (Of course, they both felt the need to apologize after that one; no relationship should be threatened because of some loudmouthed people’s views on the cultural impact of umbrellas.)

However, as of late, Alex couldn’t help but notice how Thomas’s eyebrows scrunched up in that cute way when Alex said something stupid, or the endearing way he’d make faces at Washington or at the class after a particularly outrageous statement. He would sometimes think about it after class. He loved Thomas’s confidence, and admired how strongly he supported his views, even if it was just for the grade. Alexander wanted to say that their passion was equally matched, but he’d be wrong.

Alexander just wanted to be right all the time because he always assumed he was right, or he wanted a good grade.

Thomas actually gave a shit more often that not. Even when arguing for a point that he didn’t agree with, he did his best to stick to his guns.

He was a great liar, too, with charisma through the roof. Alex would be the first to accuse him of lying, but he secretly admired Thomas’s ability to charm anyone into believing him.

 

All these thoughts of admiration flew out the window when he saw Thomas’s face. There was something about seeing him in the flourescent lights of the classroom, the place where they, quite literally, fought, that drove any positive feelings out of his mind for the time being. He make a gagging face and Thomas rolled his eyes. Alex thought he looked nervous. He wondered why… they were only going to discuss the last debate and then assign the new one today, and it couldn’t be Washington, since they’d both had Washington as a professor before. His scary vibe wore off after a while. He dearly hoped that this was not about last night… he was determined to push those thoughts out of his head.

Maybe he was just hungover.

 _T_ _hat has to be it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, things get tricky.


	3. Look Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wheezes* why did this chapter take so long

James always talked in low, measured tones. His voice was clear and he articulated well, but his volume was so low that Thomas often had to lean in to hear him, which he was doing now. James was monologuing, and he usually liked to take this opportunity to cuddle, but they were in public. He was listening so intently that he didn’t realize that he was staring at Hamilton, who had just walked in. They made awkward eye contact for an uncomfortably long time before Thomas realized what he was doing and quickly looked away, his cheeks heating up. It was moments like these he was glad his skin was dark, because when he looked back at Hamilton, he seemed flushed and embarrassed as well…  _ What an idiot. He kinda looks cute though….. _ He almost gagged at the thought.

“Hell no,” he breathed to himself.

“What, Thomas?”

“It’s nothing, baby, what were you saying about Ham--uh,  about Dolley?” He hastily corrected his slip and smiled for effect.

“....Thomas.”

“Yeah?” He was practically sweating.

“Is... everything alright?” James asked slowly.

“Yeah, I-”

“Alright!” Washington suddenly boomed at the front of the room. “Enough chit-chat, let’s get on with it.”

\-------------------------------

Alexander was barely listening today. In fact, some of his classmates were giving him looks, expecting him to participate like he usually did. Jefferson would occasionally interject, and he could feel the eyes on him, but he refused to look in that direction, lest he have to look at Jefferson again. Plus, John was holding his hand under the desk like it was middle school, but it was strangely endearing and he was starting to get hot.

He usually loved Washington’s class, but for the life of him, he couldn’t stop thinking about that insufferable prick. He squeezed John's hand a little bit; John squeezed back and smirked. Alex flashed back a guilty smile and tried his damnedest to pay attention to what the hell they were supposed to be debating about.

 

“And this time, you will be forced to spice up your pairs. I have assigned your debate partners and who you are debating against. Hey, don’t give me those looks,” said Washington, “I cannot allow you to keep picking the same people over and over again.”

 

Alexander groaned audibly as Washington began verbally announcing the pairs. He always paired up with John and went against Madison and Jefferson, that’s just how it  _ was  _ in this class. They were like, dynamic duos: Jefferson’s sass and Madison’s calm logic versus Alex’s hotheadedness and John’s sweetness. They were so good together and so well matched; like chocolate pretzels, salty and sweet. No matter what, though, whoever he was paired with couldn’t possibly be that bad, right?

 

Washington was down to two papers, and the only people that hadn’t been picked yet were….

“Madison and Laurens,” Washington said.

There was a pin-drop silence. Washington thought he might have heard someone crying.

“You will be debating Hamilton and Jefferson.”

“HOLY FUCK,” exclaimed someone from the back of the classroom. Alexander stood up.

“You did this on purpose!”

“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t, sit down son,”

“Don’t call me s--”

“Professor please,” interrupted Jefferson, but--

“You are all acting like children!” Washington boomed. The class was silent. “Honestly, I know you’re all freshmen, but act like adults. Sometimes you’ll be dealt bad cards in life, and you have to learn to deal with it. No tantrums.” He swept the class with a stern look, staring pointedly at Jefferson and Hamilton. “Now, if we can get on with this. Get into your pairs, and _ no grumbling. _ ” 

“Yessir,” Alexander muttered as he walked across the room. He didn’t even want to look at Jefferson, much less talk to him, god forbid  _ debate  _ with him...

But then he was right in front of Thomas, and he was pouting, and his hair looked exceptionally soft up close, and Alexander was  _ blushing.  _

“So.”

\--------------------

“So.”

They looked at each other, and Thomas wanted to crumple the paper in his hand out of frustration. He had been counting on debating against Hamilton, because that way he could keep his feelings at bay and replace them with anger, with smugness, with anything else… but now, they were standing in front of each other, and he looked so cute and small. Thomas wanted to die.

“O-okay, look,” Hamilton began, “We have to work together, and you hate me, and I…” he hesitated for a moment. “We don’t… it’s not happening. I’m just doing this for the grade.” He looked visibly flustered, but his faltering words were strange-- usually anger made him more eloquent. Thomas didn’t mind though… and he leaned in to say something he never thought he’d say.

“Look,  _ Hamilton _ ,” he began, spitting out the name like venom, as was customary. After all, he had to keep up appearances. He looked around to make sure no one was listening, and leaned in closer, his voice softening. “I don’t…  _ hate  _ you, okay?” It was Thomas’s turn to be flustered. “You certainly frustrate me. But I don’t hate you.” 

“O-oh. Well, for the record, I, uh,  _ don’t hate you _ either.”

Their eyes met. The look in Alexander’s eyes reminded him of last night, but this time, the fire didn’t scare him; in fact, he suddenly found himself thinking that if he did get burned, well, fuck it, right? He was rich enough to handle hospital bills. 

Washington cleared his throat, and the class snapped to attention.

“It seems I lectured for too long and it is nearly 9; I am ending class.” A collective sigh emanated from the group and people began packing up. Over the rustling, Washington said, “Jefferson! Hamilton!  _ Behave _ . I don’t want to hear about how a student was murdered.”

Thomas looked back at Alexander with an expression of disgust when all eyes looked to them, and when people lost interest, he smiled. He couldn’t read Alex’s expression at all, and it frustrated him. He was usually so good at reading people, and Hamilton was usually so expressive!

“Meet me by the gargoyle at 10,” Alex muttered, and then slipped away to join John.

“....Huh?”

“Is something wrong, Thomas?” James asked smoothly as he came to his side.

“Yeah, actually,” he replied, turning to him. “I have to deal with immigrant mcfuckface over there.” He gestured to where Hamilton was leaving the classroom.

“That’s rude, Thomas.” 

 

At 9:50 pm, Thomas double checked to make sure James was asleep and comfortable, a duvet tucked around him. At the same time, Alexander made sure John was knocked the fuck out after their wrestling match. He was facedown on the floor, so Alex left an icepack and a note that said “out for food” in case John came to. Thomas and Alex both rushed out the door in a similar way, but only Alex looked back. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what the heck they gonna do at the gargoyle in 10 minutes dude


End file.
